Kruos
by Jael K
Summary: What if...the Time Masters took Leonard instead of Mick to become a bounty hunter?
1. Chapter 1

I was researching something for work and came across the fact that" "kruos," in ancient Greek, means "icy cold."

"Huh," said the part of my brain that is always thinking about writing fanfic, "reminds me of Chronos. What if..."

This is done and will be posted in five chapters; right now I'm planning Mondays and Thursdays. Many thanks to LarielRomeniel for the beta. I promise I'll get back to my other WIPs now that this is no longer dominating my brain. :)

* * *

" _Wake_."

The tall man jerks awake, a gasp rattling in his lungs, straining immediately against the restraints holding him to the bed. He stops nearly immediately as their strength becomes apparent, and injuring himself helps no one-but inside, his brain is working furiously.

The clearing. Mick. And then the Time Master strolling out of the woods, bounty hunters by his side, pointing their guns first at Mick...and then at him.

 _No. We'll take_ this _one."_

The...issue...with his partner forgotten for the moment, Leonard had steadied his hand on the cold gun, glancing down at Mick to see if they were on the same page with this, at least. He saw understanding in Mick's eyes...and then nothing, the world vanishing in a flash of light as one of the bounty hunters hit him with some sort of weapon.

And now, that same Time Bastard stands there, smiling down at him.

"Hello, Mr. Snart," he says smoothly. "I understand we have quite a bit of work to do. Unless you're interested in... a partnership of sorts? You seem to have a rather...pragmatic...background."

Work. He can figure out what that means, based on the restraints and the man's earlier words. They want to use him as a weapon, one to take out the team, all those silly heroes for whom he's shown such scorn.

The ones on whose behalf he'd turned against his oldest friend.

He inhales, watching the Time Bastard from underneath lowered lids, wondering if he could play along for a while, learn a bit more, perhaps steal some sort of interesting time technology. But there's a dangerous quality to the man's watchfulness, and he thinks about what Hunter has said about the Time Council, their refusal to save his family, to deal with this asshole named Vandal Savage, to save the world.

Some things are too cold even for him.

Well, at any rate, he'll be damned if he'll be their lapdog without a fight. He stares at the other man, mask fixed in place as firmly as it's ever been, knowing that to show weakness here will mean doom.

Then he smiles. It's a very cold smile.

"Fuck," he says distinctly, "off."

* * *

The Waverider is there, waiting. Staring at it, knowing full well he has no choice, Mick Rory prepares himself for one of the hardest things he's ever had to do.

The Time Master had known it, too.

" _Well, well," he'd said, staring at the tableau before him, at Len holding his cold gun on Mick, at Mick sprawled on the ground, both of them staring at the unexpected newcomer. "It would seem we're somewhat earlier than planned."_

 _He'd looked at the armored figures flanking him, both of whom were ignoring Snart—the one who was actually armed—and shook his head. "No. We'll take this one," he'd told the others, pointing at Leonard, staring at Mick with distaste. "He's by far the smarter of the two. I want cleverness._ This _time."_

 _While he'd been talking, though, Leonard had glanced down at Mick, and the bigger man had seen the expression on his face—the "hell with whatever our beef was, there's a common threat now" look. Mick had been about to nod, just a tiny bit, enough to show that he agreed—but there was a flash of light, and Len had fallen, in the utterly limp fashion of the unconscious or the dead._

 _Mick had tried to surge back to his feet, only to halt as both the figures pointed their weapons at him, in a way that suggested that this time, their shot would be deadly. One of them looked toward the Time Master…who'd shaken his head._

" _He's not our problem," the man said. "Not now." He motioned toward Leonard, and one of the armored men moved to hoist the unconscious crook to his shoulders, also snatching up the cold gun as his cohort kept a gun on Mick. "He's a dead man, anyway. There's nothing out here, and he'll never go back to the ship, not after what he did."_

 _With those words, he turned his back on Mick, as if he were nothing, and the bounty hunter carrying Snart fell in just behind him. The other one kept his weapon trained on Mick until they'd vanished, then shook his head, raised his weapon, and tapped a handheld control, winking out even as Mick had lunged for him._

 _Only one thing to do. Not only did he not want to starve out here—or face the team when they came looking for Snart—but he'd be damned if he let those Time Bastards do…whatever they'd do…to Snart. The only one who got to hurt that smug jerk, he thought grumpily as he started trudging back to the Waverider, was_ him _._

Standing here now, looking at the ship, though, he wonders if he'd made the right decision. No matter how pissed he'd been at Hunter's words, at Snart's betrayal in Star City, bringing the pirates to the ship had been a stupid-as-fuck idea. Sure, he'd figured that Snart would back him up, but…

Mick shakes his head again, then raises his hands in the air to show his lack of weapons and slowly approaches the Waverider. When he's close enough, he figures, he raises his voice too.

"Hey," he bellows, in the direction of the ship, "um, anyone there?" Stupid, Mick, of course they are. "There's sort of a problem. Open up!"

He's right. Someone's here; someone's been watching for Snart. The hatch begins to open after only a minute or so go by, and it's somehow no surprise at all that it's Sara who starts to stalk down toward him. The captain, hovering a step or two behind her, tries to catch her shoulder, but Sara gives him a withering glance as she slips away and takes a few more steps toward Mick. Behind them, he can see the others approaching, Haircut and the professor and the kid and Kendra, but his eyes remain on Sara.

"Where the hell _is_ he?" she hisses, and she can see the flash of a knife in her hand. "Ray, go find…"

But Mick interrupts her, shaking his head, and raising his hands just a little higher. "The Time Masters," he tells her numbly, ignoring Hunter's gasp of surprise, the muttering from the rest of the team. "They were here. They took Snart."

Sara's eyes widen, then narrow. He can tell, though, that she believes him, that she's even now plotting how to get his partner back. Her eyes are just as cold as Snart's could get, sometimes, when someone had threatened to hurt someone he...cared...about.

Somewhere in the back of his head, a few pieces _click_ together, and a couple of things suddenly make sense. _Huh. Well, how 'bout that?_ he thinks to himself, remembering the look on Snart's face earlier when he'd threatened Sara. _'Splains a lot..._

But there are bigger fish to burn, right now.

"The rest of it, it don't matter," he tells them, hands held out before him, trying to emphasize his lack of weapons. "I can promise or whatever you want, or you can keep me in the brig. I may not get why Snart wanted to stick with you lunatics..." He tries very hard not to look at Sara. "…but those Time Bastards don't get to mess with my partner."

"Even though you threatened to kill him yourself?" Kendra's voice is cold. The bird woman stands with her arms crossed, regarding him. Mick is impressed.

"Ain't ever had a brother, have you?" he asks before he realizes what he's about to say. "Wouldn't have done it. Just...getting a few things straight."

"Was Leonard right, though?" Sara's voice is very, very cold, and while she'd been staring over his shoulder into the woods with worry in her eyes a moment ago, she's completely focused on him now. "Would you have killed his sister? _My_ sister?"

"My wife?" Stein says softly in the background. Mick doesn't have the heart to look at him, though, staring at Sara instead.

Fact is, he's not sure what he would have done in the heat of the moment. He's always…done things he regretted, in situations like that. Leonard knew that. He'd always tried to protect Mick from doing the shit he'd regret later, just like Mick had protect him, way back when, in juvie.

But all the rage that'd filled him when he'd heard Rip's words earlier, when he'd watched Snart pick this team over him…it's drained away, now. And what's left? It's 110 percent directed at the Time Bastards.

"I burn hot," he told her shortly. "Always have." He saw recognition in her eyes and nodded, guessing that Snart'd been talking. "Can I tell you what I mighta done in that...in that...then? Nope. He mighta even been right. But now's not then. And now I'm far more pissed at those Time Bastards."

She doesn't look happy. Well, he can't blame her; he'd burned her pretty good not that long ago, before Snart had tagged him with the cold gun. (Why hadn't he guessed? Snart's not one to go running to just anyone's rescue. But he'd done it in 1975, and in 2046...)

It all seems so stupid now. Time pirates? Seriously? He keeps his hands held out, eyes on her, ignoring the noises the so-called captain is making.

Finally, Sara glances behind her at the team. Whatever she sees, she nods, and turns back to him.

"OK by me," she says. "No heat gun, though. And you stay in the brig until we get some things figured out."

Rip has had enough, now. "Isn't my opinion of any bearing on this question?" he asks, sarcasm worthy of Snart thick in his voice. "This is, after all, _my_ ship."

"I know," Sara tells him. "I just don't _care_."

Mick can't help it. He laughs.

No wonder Snart likes her.

* * *

The Time Masters had been right about one thing. Leonard Snart _is_ smarter than Mick Rory. Not that Mick is stupid, not at all like he sometimes pretends to be, but Leonard has the sort of brains that could have, in another place and time, made him a prodigy. (In something other than safecracking.) It is, in truth, the sort of thing the Time Masters respect, far more than they respect brute strength, in anyone other than their bounty hunters.

But what they hadn't taken into account is that Leonard has his own sort of strength, not just the physical sort built painstakingly by a wiry, underfed kid determined to be strong, but a mental toughness also built up over the years, a sort of emotional scar tissue layered over his inner core. He has far more of a sense of self-worth than Mick's ever had, though no action of his father's.

 _Don't ever let anyone hurt you_.

He never fully managed it, though. There aren't many who could, no, not at all, but oh, those rare few can hurt him horribly.

Mick can do it with rare skill. Lisa could destroy him if she wanted to.

Barry, against Leonard's own will, had gotten under his skin with his words of heroes and a better future. And lately, oh, lately, he's let someone else in. (He clings to the memory of a compact form huddled in his jacket, curled into his side in the cold, getting past his defenses, getting under his skin.)

 _What's it like, dying?_

There, in the Vanishing Point, he finds out. The Time Masters hurt him. They hurt him in ways Lewis Snart, with all his flair for causing pain both mental and physical, never dreamed of. They break him down to his component parts (in some ways literally) and remake him; they drown him in his own blood or burn him to a cinder, and then bring him back, gasping and weak. He fights, not only or even mostly for the team, but because he is Leonard goddamn Snart, and he's no one's servant, no one's victim, and no one's puppet.

Never again.

It's been minutes, it's been forever, when his tormentor, the only one he ever really sees, looks away and frowns, stepping to the side and out of his very limited field of view. But Leonard can hear, and he closes his aching eyes to concentrate as the voices rise.

"…a mistake, Declan," he hears, as the newcomer speaks urgently to his main captor. "…should have stayed with the plan…"

"This one was the better choice." Declan...oh, the demon has a name...sounds annoyed, but also a bit defensive. "You'd have me take that...thug? This one is highly intelligent; it makes the task more difficult, but..."

" _This one_ has less reason to betray that ridiculous team Hunter put together. And ties to it that complicate matters." The voices lower to murmurs again, then rise. "If you can't break through soon, the Council has decreed that you must drop him back there and take the other instead."

"Surely, he's dead..." Declan sounds disbelieving.

"Not so. And if he knows to blame _this one_ for his dilemma, we may be able to salvage the original plan."

Mick. They're going to take Mick if he doesn't break.

Mick, with all his rage and hate. Mick, who'd burned Sara, who'd made him _choose_.

Mick, whose sense of worth has always been shaky, who's far less likely to manage to retain that inner core of _self_ , to battle back even if these Time Bastards take him. Who's already tried to kill the team once, and who, underestimated, could tear through them like a forest fire, burned corpses in his wake. Who will all too likely blame Leonard, and pursue his revenge...

Leonard makes his decision. He fights a little longer, for appearance's sake...and then he lets go, lets himself drown, swamped immediately by a sea of whispers telling him that he's a bounty hunter, that he's always been a bounty hunter, that the Time Masters know best, that they're working to save the world, that Rip Hunter's team has betrayed him, that they need to be ended.

But deep inside, he has that spar to cling to, that hidden corner to hide, propped up by sheer will and four pillars, four people, four sets of memories. Lisa. Mick. Barry. ... Sara.

He starts giving them the answers they want. It's easy, far too easy, and the hidden core of _Leonard_ cringes at it, wraps itself a little more firmly in its tiny corner, buries itself just a little better.

With each day, with each answer, with every twinge of betrayal, that core's a little more hidden. Eventually, they let him out for training sessions; he learns to pilot a time ship, to read the timeline, to operate the weapons and equipment they offer him. Declan, a proud smile on his face, takes credit for how fast he soaks everything up, the best "recruit" in millennia, and accepts the apologies of those who doubted him with a gracious nod.

And when they're satisfied that he's ready, that _Leonard_ is gone, they give him his new name-"Kruos," icy cold—and his cold gun, newly revamped and powered up. He loses track of how many missions they send him on over the next—2? 20? 200?-years, but he excels at all of them, always bringing his target back, whether it's dead or alive. His name becomes a byword for trouble over all the timescape, a source of fear and panic.

And then they send him to kill the team.

* * *

They make Mick repeat what the Time Bastard said, again and again, and if he hadn't realized that the dismissal (again) hurt then, well, he realizes it now. Sara picks up on this eventually, and the kid, of all people, and they shut the questioning down. Eventually, they're all just standing there, starting at each other, and Hunter sighs, running a hand down his face before closing his eyes.

"So, they meant to take Mr. Rory, but got there 'early,' " he says, eyes still closed. "At a guess, I'd say Mr. Snart wasn't planning to...do what we'd feared, after all. And they would have picked Mr. Rory up after he'd been marooned."

Hearing those words, something loosens in Mick's chest, something he hadn't even realized had been tight. Snart wouldn't have killed him. Even after...he glances at Sara, an unfamiliar feeling of guilt rising. Sara glances back at him, eyes softening just a little, then looks at Hunter, expression hardening again.

"What you'd feared?" she says tersely. "Everyone on this ship was all too willing to let him do it. Myself included. Even though I knew what it'd do to him."

"Ms. Lance..."

But Sara waves away Hunter's protests, as well as the murmurs of the rest of the team. "It's besides the point now," she says, gaze sharpening. "After everything he's done for this team, we are not leaving him to... whatever those bastards will do. We are _not_."

"Sara...Sara, it's already too late." Hunter lifts his hands in a placating manner. "It was too late when they took him. The Vanishing Point, it exists in all times, and none. As far as he's concerned, they've had him for centuries by now. More." He sighs. "At a guess, they took him to become a bounty hunter. They're masters at...at brainwashing. And they have reasons to want someone who knows this team."

It takes them all a moment to digest that. From Sara's intake of breath, she makes the connection first, but Mick's right behind her.

"You mean, he mighta been that armored asshole I flattened with the car?" he asked in horror. "Oh, _fuck_. I'm gonna _pay_ for that."

"He tried to kill us," Ray says numbly. "He really did. That can't be Snart."

"He didn't try. Not really."

They all turn to look at Jax, who stares back. "You all'd left me in the ship, remember?" he points out. "And yeah, he took some potshots at it, and you guys when you got back, but he didn't hit anyone. And he could have. I remember watching, thought he'd gone to Stormtrooper weapons school or something, but this makes more sense. No way someone as highly trained as you say would miss at that range."

"He could have shot Aldus," Kendra murmurs, remembering her son, now safely tucked away in a location of Hunter's choosing. "He didn't."

"You're all acting as if there's something left there." Rip's voice is layered with sorrow that sounds like it's real, and that's the only reason Mick doesn't flatten him for those words. "There isn't. I...it's not pretty, what they do, the induction process. Most people don't survive. I'd always been taught that it was OK, that they only took people who had no other option, but...I think we've established the Time Masters aren't what I always thought they were."

He shakes his head. "If we go to the Vanishing Point looking for him, we. Will. Die." The Brit's voice is flat. "If we carry on...well. He'll show up. I can guarantee it. They took Mr. Snart for a reason, to hurt this team and to have someone who knows best how to get to us. I just pray that you'll all be able to do what's necessary when the time comes."

Sara frowns at those words, and glances at the professor, for some reason. Mick just shakes his head.

"Snart's tougher than that," he says. "If Jax is right..."

"We shall see, Mr. Rory. We shall see."

* * *

Hunter insists they carry on to the 1950s, where he's pinpointed some odd occurrences—OK, murders-that may lead to Savage. Mick, at whom Rip is still looking sideways, gets to cool his heels back in the brig, but Ray and Kendra get to play house, while Rip and Jax take on other roles and Stein and Sara go undercover in a local hospital.

There's a particularly cute nurse there, and that, on top of other feelings stirred up recently, have Sara unsettled, ill at ease. She winds up kissing the woman—Lindsey—but backing away, even more unsettled by emotions she hasn't dealt with since she'd died.

"That's the thing that sucks about feelings," she tells Stein, "you realize how much you can hurt someone...or get hurt."

It's not just Lindsey, if she's being honest with herself, something she tends to avoid where stuff like this is concerned. It's the memory of a black leather jacket draped around her shoulders, booze and card games and "that's not you anymore." The tendrils of an attraction that was taken away before it'd even coalesced into a possibility.

If things had continued as they were, she might have just shrugged it off, continued to flirt, to banter, to tease, treating the whole thing like a game while shying from anything more. But now, she just can't help wondering...

Nothing, of course, goes quite as planned; Ray and Kendra barely escape Savage, while Jax gets turned into a bat...thing...and is only just barely saved by Mick, who's finally been allowed out of the brig. His actions go a long way toward getting the others to trust him again, and that makes Sara smile, but it's still a profoundly disturbed and uneasy assassin who prepares to leave the '50s with her teammates—and good riddance to the whole decade, she thinks.

She's approaching the Waverider with Ray and Kendra and saying as much when a ruckus up ahead makes them all start. Sara sees the other ship first, sees it fire on the Waverider before coming around to land in the field, and it almost feels like her heart skips a beat in her chest.

"It's him," she whispers, breaking into a run. "Ray, Kendra, it's the bounty hunter. It's..."

She can't say it.

She's not precisely dressed for fighting, but she has weapons on her, of course. She sheds the coat before she even reaches the scene, collapsed bo extended and ready, and watches as Firestorm soars out of the Waverider's hatch, sending a warning blast toward the tall figure advancing on the ship, a figure that raises a gun and send a blue-white blast toward the enemy.

The blast hits a medium-sized maple tree instead, and the whole thing immediately goes white, then shatters.

Ice.

Rip and Mick have taken cover behind the lowered hatch, and Sara joins them breathlessly. She looks at Rip, who shakes his head, staring at the melting remnants of the tree.

"They must know we've figured it out now," he says. "They've given him his own weapon back, for just a little more of that intimidation factor." He takes a deep breath. "I knew there was a bounty hunter who had an ice weapon, but I never dreamed..."

"Snart's gun never could do that before," Mick breathes, watching another tree shatter and fall. "I wonder what they could do to mine..."

"Mr. Rory!"

"Just kidding."

Kendra's hawked out now, and she and Firestorm are harrying the bounty hunter. Rip starts explaining how they should all just leave now, and Mick is arguing with him, but Sara's thinking about how... Leonard, she's still going to hope it's Leonard... could have just stayed in his ship and shot the Waverider where it's resting, or easily tagged Jax and Stein just a moment ago.

And then she makes a break for it, ignoring Rip's loud "Sara!" from behind her.

The bounty hunter sees her coming and aims a blast at her while she's still some distance away. It's easy to elude, however, and she actually uses the icy patch of ground to turn her dash into a slide, wondering if she can get close enough to land a blow that incapacitates without causing lasting damage.

No such luck. As she hit the rough ground at the end of the patch, a tree root causes her to lose her footing for just a heartbeat, a real distracted amateur's move, she thinks with annoyance. While she keeps her feet, by the time she's back in stance and ready to attack, he's pointing the gun straight at her, face still hidden by the mask, silent and obdurate.

She uses the only weapon with a chance of working.

"Leonard," she tells him, "fight it."

A long moment passes, and she'd swear the figure almost cocks its head in a very Snart-like gesture. But then he speaks.

"My name," the metallic voice informs her, "is Kruos."


	2. Chapter 2

The bounty hunter is holding his gun on her, point blank, and if he fires, she's ice; there's no getting around it. She's dead again and Leonard's gone, there's no going back...

He doesn't shoot. He continues to hold the gun on her, and they stare at each other. After a few seconds that feel like years, the figure taps a button on the side of its helmet, and the visor rises and...

It's him. It's him. Her brain is screaming at her to run, while her heart... Sara takes a deep breath, looking into icy blue eyes, taking in familiar features, that damned widow's peak, and an enigmatic expression.

There's a tiny "v" between his brows, and she has the sudden strong conviction that this is a man at war with himself, and just maybe, the snarky SOB she knew is in there. Someone comes up behind her, and she recognizes the whiff of smoke that always seems to follow Mick, but she keeps her eyes on Leonard.

"Len," she whispers, taking a step closer. "It's me. Sara. Remember?" Another step. "We played cards. Fought together. I stole you a bottle of Rip's scotch as a thank you after...Russia."

He blinks. Such a small gesture. So much in it.

Sara hears another intake of breath behind her: Rip. "This is…keep talking," he whispers.

"You told me about your sister. Lisa. I told you about mine. Laurel. We..."

There's a shadow behind him, suddenly, but he's too focused on Sara to notice it...until Kendra lunges around his side and jabs a hypodermic needle into the exposed flesh of his neck.

The gun jerks, and Sara flings herself to the ground, halfway expecting an icy blast before whatever drug can take effect, but one never comes. Instead, the gun falls from twitching fingers as Leonard Snart-Kruos-falls to his knees, blinking again. His eyes light on something behind her, and he frowns.

"Mick?" he asks, confusion plain in his tone as he stares at his partner. "What the hell?"

His eyes go back to Sara, and he shakes his head, pain crossing his features-and then he collapses the rest of the way, landing in the dirt with an anticlimactic thud.

Kendra looks at Sara, uncertainty in her eyes and the needle still in her hand. Sara climbs back to her feet as Mick walks up to them both and they stand, staring down at the armored figure that used to be a teammate.

* * *

Since no one knows if it's Kruos or Snart who's going to wake up, they put him in the brig, with full security measures, and set up a full-time rotation to keep an eye on him.

Mick and Sara undertake the touchy job of removing his armor, piece by piece, eluding a few traps and weapons with Gideon's help and finally exposing one still-unconscious Leonard Snart, clad only in a black jumpsuit, sprawled on the floor of the brig.

And no one's sure when the drug Kendra had fetched from the Waverider will wear off—Rip mentions something about bounty hunters being able to burn things off quicker than most—so the medbay is out of the question. Gideon runs the best scan she can where he is, giving him a clean bill of health. Although his brainwaves are erratic, she says, and if an AI can sound troubled...well, she manages.

No one's sure what that means.

Standing outside the brig, watching the still form therein, Sara decides she's really, _really_ sick of no one being sure.

It's Ray who's on watch when he wakes a few hours later...and it's Kruos, not Snart, whose eyes snap open, whose icy blue gaze assesses his surroundings…and who, apparently, is armed with commands that can override Waverider systems. Ignoring the watcher, he barks one at the door, which actually starts to slide open before Ray, panicking, hits him right in the face with one of the weapons on his Atom suit before calling for help.

It's Leonard, however, who wakes up next, groggily asking for the number of that truck and blinking at the team as they all peer back through the clear walls of the brig. Gideon gives them a painkiller that Sara slips through the food hatch on the cell, and Leonard accepts it, propping himself up against the wall and staring at her until she glances away, flushing.

He answers questions readily enough. Yes, the Time Masters had turned him into a bounty hunter. It'd been a long time, for him. ("A _really_ long time," he repeats, bleakly, then refuses to say anything more about that.) He remembers his time as Kruos, but when he _was_ Kruos, he didn't recognize the team as anything other than an enemy.

He says he's not sure what knocked him out of it. (Although he doesn't meet anyone's eyes as he says it.) And he's not sure if his Kruos-self is still there, waiting to come back.

"Then, what do we do?" Ray asks plaintively. "We can't just keep him in here."

Rip sighs, rising from where he'd been sitting and firing questions at Leonard. "I don't know, Dr. Palmer."

"You should probably just shoot me in the head and dump me in the field," Leonard points out. "Get a head start before…"

"Shut up," Sara snaps at him, startling them all and interrupting Jax's own protest and Mick's more profane version of the same thing. She glares at Leonard. "That's not happening."

Rip doesn't argue with her, but he does look conflicted. He looks at Leonard, who shrugs, and then back at the other members of the team.

"The Time Masters...well, I've told you a little about how they pick up children from throughout time, orphans, those who will not be missed, to train to join them. The bounty hunters...well it's something of the same thing. But in their case, we're talking about grown men and women, generally with a … a grudge, let's say, against their fellow man, or at least a group in particular. The tough yet...mentally malleable." Rip shakes his head. "They went against their pattern when they grabbed Mr. Snart. No offense, Mr. Rory, but you'd be far more likely to fit their usual parameters."

Mick grunts. "None taken. And, yeah," he points out to Stein, who's opened his mouth, "I do know what that means."

"His name was Declan", Snart interrupts wearily from where he's still slumped against the wall. "Ain't gonna forget it. He seemed to have a...stake in the matter. Really invested."

Rip lets loose with an oath that makes the rest of the team stare at him in shock. (Mick, after a startled moment, slaps him on the back in appreciation.)

"Declan," Rip says with distaste, "considers himself...an artist. Of a sort. And he's always wanted to use his…tricks…to subvert someone a bit more strong-minded than the usual run, whereas the others preferred more of a…sure thing. It seems you, Mr. Snart, were the ideal guinea pig for his induction process."

"Peachy." The crook sounds a little more like himself, sitting up and rolling his eyes. "I'm special. Yay. Doesn't change the fact I'm also a ticking time bomb."

Mick swears again, staring at him. "Did they…"

"No, not literally. I'd be dead already if that was the case." He frowns. "I think. No, even the Time Bastards drew the line at putting bombs in their operatives." A wry look crosses his face. "Yet another time Lewis Snart was more evil than the other bad guys."

Sara swallows the urge to reach out to him. "Then…"

"I fought back. But that doesn't mean I won for good. If you're not going to do the wise thing and off me, I can't promise you I won't turn back into Kruos at any time." His voice is cold, sharp. "I need to stay in here."

Rip's saying something in the background, but Sara's not listening. She's watching Leonard, who's looking rather intently back at her, and this time it's not just Mick who notices their expressions.

"You're not the only one with a demon," she tells him, finally. "I happen to have some experience fighting them. Stay in there for now...but you can beat this."

He smiles, and this times it actually touches his eyes a little. "Making me a project, Sara?"

"Trying to save your life, jerk. Even though you don't seem to want it saved."

"There is one thing." Gideon's voice sounds tentative. "Mr. Snart's brainwaves, as I said earlier, were erratic when he was first brought on board. They are much more stable now, and nearly a match for the baseline scans I have from before."

"What are you saying, Gideon?" Rip asks wearily, as Leonard's low"You took _brainwave_ scans of us?" attracts everyone's attention in the background.

"I will monitor his brainwaves," the AI says simply. "If there is a high degree of instability, I will warn you. That is all."

"Well, at least that's sort of an early warning system," Ray says, obviously trying to sound upbeat. "And the brig's secure now. Right?"

"Unless I... _he_...has some other tricks up his sleeve, Boy Scout," Leonard points out.

"Well, wouldn't you know?" Kendra asks him.

" _No_." There's so much frustration in that word that every eye is drawn back to him again. "I don't _know_. That's the part that's pissing me off."

And the room is silent once more.

"You guys forgave me," Mick points out eventually, his voice a low rumble, as if he's regretting his words already. "And Snart didn't actually hurt anyone."

("Not on the _team_ ," the crook mutters. Only Sara hears him.)

"Yes, but you made a conscious decision, both to do that, and to make amends." Rip sighs. "Mr. Snart is a vict..."

"Don't say it." Leonard's voice is low and dangerous and the former Time Master stops mid-word.

"Right," he says, after a moment. "Well, I think it's unanimous—with the possible exception of Mr. Snart himself—that we're giving this a try."

"You're making a mistake," Leonard tells him flatly.

"Well, it's our mistake to make," Rip responds, turning for the door. "Let's get into the time stream. I have some things to look into for our next destination."

The rest of the team dutifully files through the door, a few with promises to come back later. Mick and Leonard hold what appears to be a staring contest for a few long minutes before Mick shakes his head and turns for the exit as well.

Which leaves Sara, who's still sitting on a bench, watching him.

"You left some things out," she says after a moment.

"Left a lot of things out." He stretches, then casts about a minute, looking for a way to strap down during the time jump.

"I'm sure. But what I'm wondering is this: you're not...what did Rip say? Mentally malleable?" She leans forward. "The Leonard Snart I know would have fought them until his brain was mush, would have died before giving in. So what happened?"

She sees a flicker of surprise in his eyes before the shutters go down a little more. "Maybe they just broke me."

"I don't believe it."

"It's all you're getting."

"Ms. Lance," Gideon breaks in, "Captain Hunter is requesting your presence on the bridge for departure. Mr. Snart, you'll find straps to your left, recessed into the wall."

Sara stands with a sigh. "We'll talk later," she informs him. "I'm not leaving this alone."

She exits, then, and Leonard, shaking his head, finds the straps, readying himself for the jump.

"Peachy," he sigh, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. "Here we go."

* * *

Once they're safely in the time stream, Rip vanishes into his study. Sara, smiling a little to herself, watches a steady procession of people in and out of the brig, most of them bearing offerings such as food or books.

It's probably the best thing possible, she thinks, that Leonard sees that the team wants him to beat this, wants him back. And indeed, when she finally strolls into the brig later, he's holding a book—a graphic novel, probably from Jax—with a very thoughtful look on his face.

It turns into sardonic humor when he sees her. He puts the book down and leans back, watching her.

"So what'd you bring me?" he drawls, eyeing her up and down. "Seems like everyone thinks I'm going to starve to death in here, or die of boredom, or maybe just waste away from lack of interaction."

"Be nice," she tells him, taking a seat. "Just me."

"Hmm. Good enough." There's flirtation in his tone, and she smiles, recognizing the attempt at distraction for what it is.

"I still want to know what happened," she informs him. "I'm not letting it go, Leonard."

That gets a snort that manages to convey agreement and annoyance at the same time. He studies her another moment, then sighs.

"Not a word to anyone else."

"Not unless it's really important for some reason."

Leonard accepts that with a shrug.

"They were going to drop me back where they'd taken me," he says finally, "and take Mick. A bit later, so he was starving, and desperate."

Sara sits back and he can see the surprise on her face. "Because they thought they could break him?"

"Because they thought they wouldn't have to. Not in the same way, anyway. They wanted to leverage his hate for the team at that moment, his hate for me. He'd have gone into it without a backward glance, and he'd have stopped at nothing to burn this team to the ground. And not just y...the team. Anyone we cared about. Like I said before. My sister. Your sister."

His voice is flat, and Sara has the feeling he's remembering the sort of things anyone would prefer to forget. "You...sacrificed yourself to prevent that," she whispers.

An irritable shrug. "I had the means to resist. Mick didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"Mick was pissed; he wouldn't have thought beyond that, at least not to start. And there's a lot less..." He pauses, considers his words. "...self-worth there."

"Yes, yes, we all know you're an egotistical asshole." The insult lightens the mood just a little, and he actually smirks at her before going serious again.

"Mick thinks he's got nothing," he says tersely. "He'd have given in, if he thought he could get some revenge."

Sara watches him. "And what do you have, Leonard?"

He tilts his head, watching her in return. "My sister. Mick, as far as it goes. I told you about juvie."

"And?" She's not sure why she's pressing it.

A long pause. "Well. I have to stick around to tell that smug bastard Barry Allen what I think of this hero gig."

Another pause. "...I suppose I'd miss you...our card games." He studies his nails, avoiding her eyes. "I don't know about the rest of these losers."

"Uh huh."

They both start as Rip's voice interrupts, calling the team to a meeting on the bridge. Sara rises with a sigh, glances at the crook, who's still avoiding her eyes, and turns to go.

"Sara," he says, "wait!"

She turns to look at him; Leonard suddenly finds the wall over her head extremely interesting again.

"Bring the cards next time?" he says diffidently.

"I'll do that."

* * *

"Next time" doesn't come for longer than they'd both like. Rip's decided to take the ship to 2147, a time he asserts is very dangerous for all of them, and that needs to be hashed over in multiple ways until Sara's sick of all the talk, talk, talk.

Leonard wakes up the next morning disorientated and raving. He tries to jimmy the door, but there's no Time Master trickery involved this time around, just a desperate locked-in crook who comes to his senses after Jax, who's keeping an eye on him, improvises and dumps some ice water on his head.

But Sara doesn't find out about that incident until later.

By the time she manages more than just a quick look-in, they've made the jump and landed in the future, and had their first look around. She feels guilty at the site of Leonard slumped in his cell again, clearly bored out of his mind.

He perks up as he sees her, and smirks as she waves the deck of cards at him.

"Where are we?" he asks her casually as she starts to deal, taking a chance and opening the food slot just a little wider. "And when. Gideon warned me about the jump, but nothing more."

"2147. Kasnia Conglomerate. You'd hate it; no crime."

"The future, eh? Thought that was a no no. Why?"

Sara hesitates, then tells him, about Savage, and Per Degaton, and choices they need to make.

"So what's to talk about? If the little rat's really going to be responsible for that many deaths, do it. Save a bunch of other kids who might not grow up to be mass murderers." He looks up at her silence and shrugs. "That's not _him_. It's me. I don't have many illusions about kids. Juvie, remember? _Those_ little assholes would have knifed me and left me to bleed to death in the yard. If not for Mick."

Sara doesn't really want to talk about Per Degaton, and she's been looking for a segue anyway, so she seizes on the last comment.

"So why aren't you talking to him?" she says, taking a card. "I know he's been in here a couple of times. Says you'll barely look at him. It really bothers him."

Len grunts, discarding a card. "It's bad enough talking to you," he says, his tone saying otherwise. "I don't want him figuring some things out. Mick doesn't do well with feelings."

"What about _your_ feelings?"

"About you?"

She glances up at those quiet words, a retort about trying to distract her on her lips, only to be confronted by a look that's so intense she's speechless for a moment. Then he looks away, and she takes a breath, giving him a smile.

"About Mick."

"I have no feelings about Mick." But his tone is tense, now, and his hands are gripping the cards so tightly that they bend. It's probably not wise, but she decides to press again.

"You said you had people, and Mick thought he didn't," she points out. "Isn't Mick one of your people?"

"Mick...is the reason I'm in here." He's trying for anger, but it's simply emerging as sullenness.

"So...what? You don't want him to know you did it for him?"

"I didn't..." He stops himself. "Not _just_ him."

"Look, I get it. You guys don't do feelings." Sara sighs. "You'd probably rather, I don't know, do something stupid and 'manly' like beat each other up rather than talk about them. But he's feeling guilty and you're obviously having issues with it too. So stop being an ass, and deal with it."

She sets her cards down then and smiles at him. "Gin."


	3. Chapter 3

So, they don't have their usual master thief along in Kasnia, but they do have Mick, and he plays his role in Team Kidnapping just fine. Of course, everything goes downhill from there, Sara thinks later, but that's, well, later.

She stops back into the brig after all the shit happens, when they're back in the time stream and Rip is trying to figure out where they can go to lay low for a bit...only to stop dead in her tracks at the sight of Mick Rory leaning on the wall, talking away—chattering, even—at Leonard about 2167 and a statue of Haircut and…

 _I'll be damned._

Leonard's leaning against the opposite wall, echoing Mick's posture, and his eyes immediately flick to her as she enters. Mick looks, and grins.

"Telling the boss here about adventures in kidnapping and how fucked up the future is," he informs her, in a tone that's far too cheerful, then looks back at Leonard. "Later. I'll bring booze, tell you the rest."

Leonard just waves a hand and drawls something bored at him, but Mick doesn't seem to mind. He saunters out the door, and Sara takes his place, Leonard's eyes following her.

She grins at him. He rolls his eyes, and looks away. Then back, like he can't help himself.

"What's that?"

"Brought you a razor and some shaving cream," she says, holding the items up. "Starting to look a bit scruffy there, Snart."

That gets a faint huff of laughter, and he thoughtfully rubs a hand along his jawline—definitely scruffier than his wont, though it looks good on him-and moves up to look at her through the divider. "They'll let me have a razor?"

"Who's _they_?" She shrugs. "What're you going to do with it besides shave?"

He looks down at the item in her hand and...and shudders; there's no better word for it. Then he lifts his eyes back to hers.

"I could cut myself with it and pretend it was an accident," he tells her flatly. "Then when you came in to help...I could break your neck."

The tone is cold. Utterly emotionless. And his eyes are, too, unless you know what to look for. It might even have scared someone who wasn't a former member of the League of Assassins. Sara keeps her response light, watching the eyes. His scans have been clear; the choice to stay in the brig, mostly his.

"Yeah, well, the League taught me the same damn thing, and you don't see me using it on you." She holds up the packet of shaving cream. "And this?"

He blinks, and Leonard's looking back out of his eyes. A corner of his mouth twitches up. "That? I don't know." Shrug. "If it was an actual can, I could probably get you a small explosion."

A smirk, and he continues. "And that's not from the Time Masters, that's from Mick. You learn lots about making various things go 'boom' when you hang around with teenaged Mick."

"I just bet you do." She feeds the razor and the packet though the slot, watching as he picks them up. "So, you're talking to him again."

"Well. Someone told me to stop being...what was it? An ass?" A sideways glance. "Something like that."

"Did you tell him about...?"

But Leonard gives her a curt shake of his head. "No," he says simply. "And I'm not going to. You wouldn't believe it, but Mick's already carrying guilt. He doesn't need more."

Sara thinks of what she knows of Mick, and his youth, bare bones gleaned from Gideon's files when she was still trying to figure out what sort of a crew she'd fallen in with. "I believe it," she says softly.

They stand in silence a moment, then Leonard clears his throat. "Of course," he says drily, clearly trying to lighten the tone, "it doesn't extend to plenty of things he probably _should_ feel guilty about. Like any number of serious felonies and eating all the mini marshmallows and refusing to 'fess up about it."

Sara can't help it. She laughs, and shakes her head...and a few pieces of blond hair swing away from her neck, revealing a long, thin mark that's still red from the edge of a blade.

The knife had barely creased her skin, just enough to sting (and to piss her off). Rip had encouraged her to get Gideon to fix it, but she'd had too many other things she'd wanted to do first.

Leonard notices it immediately and stares, fingers tightening around the razor.

"What happened?" he asks.

"Nothing you need..."

"Sara." Just one intense word. She sighs.

"Savage grabbed me," she responds shortly, turning away. "I wasn't careful enough, OK? I'm not hurt, not really. And Rip was turning the damned kid over anyway, so…"

She glances back at him—and goes still at the look at his face. For a few seconds, the something cold, yet furious, is back again, staring at her from behind his eyes. The fury isn't directed at her, though, and, while it's uncanny as hell, she can't quite manage to be frightened of him.

Watching further, she sees something remarkable happen.

She sees him close his eyes, sees him swallow, placing a hand against the wall of the brig to steady himself. And she sees him fight the monster down.

She's pretty sure that if she'd looked in a mirror during one of her fights with the bloodlust, she'd have seen something very similar, so she can't help watching in fascination. The muscles in his neck move as he swallows again, the muscles in his face and neck, shoulders and arms, stiff with tension. Slowly, slowly, she sees them relax, until he's simply standing there, and she feels the need to say _something_.

"I can take care of myself, you ass," she tells him, trying to keep her tone light again. "I don't need protecting."

She semi-expects some sort of protective, caveman response, but Leonard's not like that. It's one of the things she likes about him.

"I know" is the tense response, and then he opens his eyes and looks at her…and he's there again. Sara lets out a breath she'd barely realized she was holding.

"But I wasn't there," he continues, watching her intently, unconsciously echoing her thoughts. "I wasn't watching your back. I should have been."

"Yeah, and Savage might still have managed it, because there was a lot going on and he's a very old, clever psychopath." She reaches out to the glass, lays a hand on it. "I'm OK. Really."

He stares at the hand for a long moment, then shakes his head. "Should have been there."

She's not going to convince him if he doesn't want to be convinced. "You know, if you wanted to come out, I'm pretty sure the team would agree to let you," she tells him. "You've got this. I just saw you fight it down. And that... appearance, that was on my behalf, not even directed at a team member."

Leonard doesn't shoot the idea down immediately, which is more than he's allowed before. But he does shake his head.

"I don't know," he says quietly. "You just saw. It's…he's still there." The skin at the outside of his eyes tightens. "In the corners. If I let my guard down." A pause. "When I sleep."

Sara makes a mental note to follow up on that. But she's already lingered too long, and she knows if she stays much longer, someone's going to come looking for her. "Think about it," she tells him gently. "I'll be back, let you know what's going on, where we're going now."

His lips twist in what might almost be a smile. "Thanks," he drawls, then holds up the razor. "Time to de-scruff."

She's not sure what makes her say it. "You know, I think I sort of like the scruff. Sexy," she tells him, then smiles at the look on his face and ducks out the door.

A few paces down the hall, the door sliding shut behind her, she pauses. "Gideon?"

"There was a momentary flicker in Mr. Snart's brainwaves, but it did not last," the AI replies promptly, as if she'd expected the question. She probably had. "He is achieving control over it."

"That's…good. Great." It is, Sara thinks, the best news she's had all day. Despite all the events of their sojourn in 2147, she's smiling as she continues down the hall to the bridge.

* * *

It's not long however, before she's back again, to tell Leonard he might want to keep the scruff. They're going to the Old West.

And his services are required.

* * *

"This is not a good idea." Leonard's tone is flat as he stares at the old-fashioned pistol Sara's holding out to him. He looks over at Rip, who shrugs, then back at her.

The rest of the team is rummaging about the fabrication room, chattering eagerly about the Old West, no concern at all in their demeanor despite his presence in their midst. It's obviously bothering him far more than them, and that's something he's not in the mood to examine right now, not with Sara still holding a weapon out to him.

And she's still grinning—grinning!—up at him from under her lashes, looking so goddamned… _cute_ , which is usually not a word he ascribes to Sara Lance…in her cowboy getup.

"Come on, Snart," she murmurs at him as if there's no one else around. "I'm not protecting your ass. No matter how nice an ass it is."

What the hell has gotten into her?

Not that he's going to complain.

He mock-glares at her as he takes the gun, steeling himself momentarily for a flicker from Kruos as his palm touches the grip. But…nothing, just Sara nodding in satisfaction and stepping back.

Leonard briefly weighs the gun in his hand, getting a feel for the weight of it, then nods to himself and holsters it. He'll admit he rather likes the figure he cuts in the all-black outfit Gideon had made for him, and Sara certainly seems to appreciate it. He slowly places the black hat on his head, watching as the others prepare eagerly and she plays around her own gun. Why is that so damned…

"Mr. Snart, while I understand and even share some of your concern," Hunter says, interrupting his thoughts in his usual annoying manner, "I can admit that, in a place like Salvation, many of your, ah, talents are _quite_ useful."

Leonard doesn't give that a response-wondering, however, just _which_ talents Hunter is speaking of.

"As much as I hope you lot stay out of trouble, well, I also know you all well enough to know that it's not bloody likely," Hunter says to the room at large, then looks back at Leonard. "And if your…ah…time with the Time Masters gave you anything positive, well, you may have a grasp now of the care that needs to be taken with the timeline."

"Don't worry…we'll stay out of trouble, pardner!" Ray, who's been beaming since their destination was announced, tells him happily, then offers Kendra his arm, which she accepts. Sara rolls her eyes and follows them out the door, Mick falling into step besides her.

Hunter's words are true enough, Leonard reflects, although it doesn't make him really care. He neglects to say that, though, putting pieces together and eyeing Hunter as the man continues to putter around the room and Stein and Jax depart, arguing about something.

"We're hiding," he says finally, after they're gone. "This place, it's a Fragmentation. We're hiding from the Hunters."

The captain stops in the process of hanging a discarded duster back in a recessed closet, then turns to regard him with a steady gaze.

"Of course we are, Mr. Snart," he says calmly. "I'd have figured you knew that. I've already spoke to the others. I've been wondering why you hadn't brought the…issue…up yourself."

Mostly because he's been distracted and fatigued and in a bit of mental pain, Leonard thinks, irritated by the faint hint of asperity in the other man's words. He tries to show no sign of it, especially since he's also kicking himself for the oversight.

"Think it'll work?" he drawls, leaning against the wall, trying to put the right amount of disdain in his words to get under Hunter's skin.

"It gives us a chance, at least, buys us some time. And I…"

"Rip! Mick wants to know where we get gunpowder. I don't know if…"

As Hunter turns to deal with that issue, Leonard slips out.

It's unnerving to be free on the ship again, he thinks as he makes his way down the hall. He's pretty sure that wasn't supposed to happen; he'd be happier with someone to keep an eye on his…his alter ego…himself, but at least there's Gideon…

"You knew? About the Hunters?"

He turns. Sara stands there, watching him, and while there's no censure on her face, neither is there really much expression at all.

"Little birds have big ears," he drawls, trying not to show his discontent with the whole thing.

"Why didn't you say something?" Again, nothing in her voice.

"I... I guess I'd hoped they'd let me go," he says finally, after staring back at her a long minute. "Think I'd died, or give me up as a bad investment. They weren't happy with..." He can't quite bring herself to say the name right now. "...the Time Master that, well, _made_ me. Him. Kruos." God, he hates this. And he doesn't want to think about the Hunters, or the Time Masters, or Dec...

Leonard twitches, another shudder overtaking him involuntarily. Sara's expression...lack of expression...morphs into concern, and she reaches out, pauses, and then lays her right hand on his chest, right over his heart.

The contact, even though it's not skin on skin, shocks him out of what, if he's being honest with himself, was probably the start of a panic attack. He lets out a ragged breath, then draws himself up, trying to reclaim his cool.

Sara lets him. She leaves her hand there only a moment longer, then lifts it, a spot of warmth remaining.

"Come on, crook" is all she says. "I'll buy you a drink."

* * *

Things seem pretty calm at first. Leonard will admit it's kind of neat, sauntering into Salvation like something out of those old Westerns his grandfather used to watch. From somewhere, a tendril of memory snakes in, and he almost smiles. The old man would have _loved_ this.

He hasn't thought about his grandfather in years.

He glances over at Sara, see her smiling, can't help but smile back. She glances at him, too, at just that moment, and the grin gets wider.

Why is her enthusiasm so contagious when Raymond's is so annoying? A mystery for the ages.

The saloon is also right out of a movie, and Leonard trails along as Sara heads right for the bar, Mick happily accompanying her and Kendra attending out of curiosity...which quickly goes away as she gets a whiff of the alcohol. Leonard, to be honest, is on her side, wrinkling his nose and promptly sitting the shot back down.

Mick laughs. "Boss here is a liquor snob," he tells Sara. "It's gotta be the good stuff. Beer too."

The smell of cheap, stale beer and booze never, ever fails to remind him of Lewis. Too many memories in too little time. Leonard shakes his head and, his relatively good mood evaporated, turns away. He notices Stein, of all people, sitting down to a hand of cards with a group of unkept locals and decides he just might try his hand at fleecing a few sheep out of their money.

As it turns out, it's a good thing he does.

For Stein, anyway.

* * *

Leonard's not sure about Jonah Hex. There are so many…feelings… flying back and forth between Hunter and the newcomer that he doesn't know what to make of it. And apparently saving Stein's life is jeopardizing everything. (He doesn't know why he tries, he thinks, exasperated.)

And of course, Sara decides to go haring off with Kendra, leaving him without his one touchstone in this mess, whether or not he actually dares to call her that anywhere other than in his head.

It's OK. He'll manage. He'll save Raymond's ass and rescue Jax and back up Rip, because Sara would want him to. He'll play by the rules.

Then, in the middle of everything, the Hunters come.

* * *

"Traitor!" one yells at him, firing and missing. For some reason, the word wakes a sick feeling of anger in his stomach, a rolling feeling of nausea.

Kruos' life is like a bad dream, now, at least if he maintains control-but he remembers enough to know that the other bounty hunters had hated him, Declan's prodigy, already deemed so much better than the rest of them…smarter, stronger willed, more deadly.

But he doesn't dignify it with an answer. Instead, he just fires back.

And _his_ shot connects.

* * *

Back at the ship, Sara's just a little…off…after her and Kendra's little excursion. He wants to ask, but figures she'll tell him when she wants.

He's a little off himself.

 _Omega Protocols. The Pilgrim._ He knows what that means, all the dangers those simple words contain.

Rip's taking them to rescue their younger selves, he says. Leonard's profoundly uneasy with that idea, even as he recognizes the necessity, and he knows Mick is, too. But Sara's uneasy about something else.

"That woman Kendra was looking for…it turned out to be _her_ ," she says abruptly, laying a card down. "In an earlier incarnation."

They're sprawled on the floor of his room, no glass between them again. Somehow, though, things have changed in some undefinable way, though he's not going to let himself explore what it is.

"Awkward."

Sara nibbles on her thumbnail, considering her cards, then looks up at him. " She told Kendra that …things…. will never work out, unless it's with Carter. That it never does. And then, of course, Savage gets them anyway."

"Ouch. Poor Boy Scout." He means it. He's not the biggest fan of Ray Palmer, but that would smart, big time. They've seemed happy together; the world needs more of that shit.

"I don't think she's going to act on it, but I could see it affect her. I wonder." She hesitates. "Len, do you believe in fate? Destiny?"

He thinks she seems surprised that he doesn't answer immediately, but he figures he owes her a considered answer, especially after…everything. "Never have," he says finally, laying a card down. "But the Time Masters do, to some extent…I mean, what else is that 'time wants to happen' stuff Rip is always spouting off? Trust me; they're really into that idea."

His lips twist. "I got a taste of that. Not just with them, with my jackass dad and that damned emerald. Is that fate? Him going to prison and becoming 10 times the jackass no matter what I did? I don't know."

"In some ways, I guess it makes it easier," Sara says quietly, looking down at her cards again. "Thinking I had no choice but to get on that boat. With Oliver. That I was meant…to die. And to come back. But I meant what I said, way back when we first got on this ship. If we can't change our fates, what's the point?"

They're both silent a long moment, Sara struggling with memories, Leonard with the idea of Sara dying. He's known it happened, of course, but…

"Well," he says eventually, trying to sound cool and nonchalant, "for what it's worth, I stayed on this boat because of what you said that day. In part, anyway. Was I 'destined' to do that? I don't know that either. But I think we make our choices, for better or worse. And I don't regret it." He puts down his cards. "Gin."

Sara shakes her head, but when he looks up at her, her eyes are shining at him in a way that makes his mouth go dry. For a moment, he almost considers saying something else, acknowledging this strange and fragile _thing_ that's growing between them.

But then Sara climbs to her feet, and the moment's over.

"You going to be OK tonight?" she asks. "Outside the brig?"

She's the only one to ask that, the only one to remotely get it. He supposes that's not surprising.

"Yeah," he tells her, "I think so. And Gideon will keep an eye on me, won't you, Gideon?"

"Always, Mr. Snart."

"Yeah, like that's not creepy or anything." He says a smile with Sara, who pauses as she heads toward the door. "Goodnight, Sara."

"Goodnight, Len."

* * *

He's not OK.

It seems like it's no sooner than his eyes are closed that the dreams—are they really just dreams? He can't be sure, and that's part of the problem—roar back. He's Kruos again, and he's doing everything the Time Masters had sent him out to do, murdering his way through the Legends and others.

The last four victims—Mick, Lisa, Barry, Sara-are always the four he'd built his precarious mental shelter around. If he's lucky, he manages to wake himself before that portion of the horror begins.

This is not a night he's lucky.

By the time his eyes fly open, images of ice and blood chasing him into wakefulness, he has to stifle his screams in a pillow. _Weak, weak, weak_. Then he just lies awake, shaking and covered in a cold sweat, terrified of closing his eyes again lest one of these times, Kruos will use the lapse to take over.

Gideon, worry in her tone, offers to wake someone, but he turns her down flat. He also turns down her offer of a tranquilizer: too much of a loss of control. And he doesn't want to hear reassurances about his brain scans, not with images of _what he could have done_ still lingering behind his eyes.

In the end, he winds up just finding a book— _A Tale of Two Cities_ , his version of literary comfort food—and reading as long as he can, then simply staring at the ceiling until what passes for morning on the ship arrives.

No one mentions the dark circles under his eyes. Although Sara looks like she might want to.

* * *

She does want to. But Leonard so palpably doesn't want anyone to mention it that she stays mum for the moment. And then…they need to rescue their younger selves, and there's just no more time.

The Pilgrim is quite the badass, but not as much as Sara had thought she'd be. She can't help remembering Leonard's earlier words, though. It's not so much about how tough the Pilgrim is as a fighter, as about what she's willing to do in the pursuit of a mission.

"I was an exception in one way, but everyone else they brought on...they were all brainwashed to one extent or another," he'd said tersely, looking at the floor. "Except her. She was all in. Any sort of atrocity, if the Time Masters told her to. Specializes in killing kids; enjoys it, even. Don't know the story there. Don't want to."

His eyes had flickered a little. "She…really didn't like me."

It's bizarre, seeing younger Sara there on the ship—and even weirder interacting with her after she slaps young Mick. (Older Mick is still chuckling about that.) But it may, possibly, be the most bizarre thing of all when she and Kendra walk into that Central City hospital in 1972.

Because Leonard Snart as a baby is absolutely adorable.

Later, at the Refuge, she teases him about it, a little, very gently, and although he's staring at his younger self with shadows in his eyes as well as under them, he smirks at her.

"What can I say?" he drawls. "I turned on the charm very early."

"Charm? You?"

"You telling me I can't be charming?"

"I'm not sure if that's what I'd call it…"

But once they get back to the ship, it all goes to hell. Again.

Sara never again wants to hear the noise Leonard makes when he sees his sister's face on the screen. It's a cross between a gasp and a whimper and a growl, and she's pretty sure someone else would have remarked about it if they all hadn't been staring at the screen in such horror.

She can see the coiled-spring tension in him as Rip makes his offer, as they land at the defunct Time Master outpost, as they take up their places. Hidden, she finally gets a chance to reach out and grasp his arm as they wait for the Pilgrim, trying to convey understanding and what little comfort he might accept.

He looks at her hand, and for a moment, she thinks he might reject it. But then he lifts his eyes to hers, and she's startled by the depth of despair and anger—and exhaustion—in them.

"If this doesn't work…" His voice is ragged, broken.

"It's going to work. You hear me, Snart?" She tries to pour so much into her voice. "It's going to…"

And then the Pilgrim is there, and there's no more time to talk. Sara can feel the tension in her companion as the bounty hunter raises her voice to point out that she is "sanctioned by the Time Masters to do what that… _failure_ …Kruos failed to do."

They watch, side by side…and then it's time to move.

* * *

She asks him how his sister is, later. He rather skillfully dodges the question—and notably doesn't mention the amnesia pill—but does ask about her dad.

There are too many people around, then, to address her concerns, especially as Rip makes his announcement about 2166.

But she has no intention, again, of letting it go.


	4. Chapter 4

"Gideon says you're not sleeping."

Leonard had risen to get the deck of cards when she'd walked in, but at her words, he sighs and sinks back to his bed, slumping against the wall and watching Sara through hooded eyes.

"Gideon," he says, "talks too much."

Gideon, fortunately, doesn't decide to distract them by refuting that. He doesn't tell her to leave (not that she has any intention of doing so), so Sara walks over and settles at the other end of the bed, watching him. She doesn't speak, and finally, he sighs again.

"Don't like to sleep," he mumbles. "Too many dreams. And that's when... _he_...threatens to come out."

Gideon has said Leonard's brain scans are fine. "Does _he_ really, or are you just dreaming about it?"

He shrugs, a bit irritably, but looks away, a true Leonard Snart tell. Sara supposes it really doesn't matter, not when it comes to her goals.

"I know what it's like, you know," she says, holding up a hand when he tries to interrupt her, "having something inside you're not sure you're able to control, something you're deathly afraid of." She shifts a little to face him. "The first weeks—and months-after I started getting the bloodlust under control, it was like that. Mediation helped, sometimes."

She looks at him expectantly—and takes it as a win when he doesn't dismiss it out of hand. Instead, after a moment, she gets a blink, a smirk, and a shrug.

"Me, meditating?" he drawls. "Sure, why not?"

She makes suggestions about how to sit, which he accepts with equanimity, then about how to how to breathe and what, perhaps, to concentrate on (or not). Then they simply sit there for a while, eyes closed, and Sara's pleased to hear his breath even a little, just a little, before they open their eyes to look at each other again.

"Better?" she asks.

He considers for a moment, then gives a brief nod. Then a corner of his mouth turns up slightly. " _Never_ tell Mick."

"No worries."

It's a rare moment of utter peace for the two of them, and maybe that's why she impulsively speaks again. "Would you like me to stay tonight?"

Leonard's eyes flicker at her. He stretches one leg out in front of himself, foot brushing her knee, then another.

"Is that a proposition, Sara?" he says smoothly after a moment.

"Depends. Do you think it would help?"

His expression really is quite amusing. But after a moment, it hardens, closes off.

"No," he says shortly, looking away. " _Not_ justbecause I... because the Time Bastards fucked with my head."

They both ignore the implication that in another circumstance, he'd feel differently. Sara just shakes her head.

"I'm really just thinking about contact," she says gently. "Can't imagine… Kruos… had much of that, over however long you were him. Might help remind you that you're _you_."

Leonard licks his lips, looking rather more unnerved by the idea of simple human contact than if she'd been openly propositioning him.

"I haven't been precisely..." He searches for a word, shrugs. "...overly fond of that myself. I'm...picky."

"Not the impression I got."

"Different kind of picky."

"Enough banter. Do you want me to stay here tonight, or not?"

The silence stretches as they stare at each other.

"Yes," he says, then shakes his head. "No. What if I..."

"Mr. Snart's brain waves are agitated, but not in the manner that indicates a... a breakout," Gideon informs them promptly. "His heart rate is also up. More consistent with..."

"Thank you, Gideon." She continues to stare at Leonard, who is, again, looking anywhere but at her. "You're not going to hurt me, Len."

"How do you know?

"Because, one, I can kick your ass. Because, two, you're more Leonard Snart than Kruos. Far, far more. And I trust Leonard Snart."

Those simple words bring the shutters down. "You shouldn't," he tells her, eyes staring at something only he can see. "You shouldn't."

And that's that.

For the moment.

* * *

It's only a few hours later when Gideon wakes her, the AI's tone concerned and low.

"Ms. Lance, I'm sorry, but Mr. Snart…"

On some level, she'd been expecting this call. Sara rolls out of bed, landing on her feet and heading for the door. (She'd stopped sleeping naked within the first few days on the Waverider; it truly wasn't a good idea on a ship on which chaos could break out at any moment. Stein still can't look her in the eye at times.) " _What_?"

"His brain scans are fine, or I would be rousing more than you." The AI's voice hushes much more as Sara steps into the hallway and heads off at a run for Leonard's room. "But he is very agitated and I am concerned that he may injure himself."

When Leonard's door slides open at her approach (Gideon anticipating her arrival), Sara can't help shuddering at the strangled noise that's emitting from the room. She ducks in, the door closing behind her, and takes in the scene at a glance.

Leonard is curled on the bed, sitting more or less upright, arms curled over his head, hands curled into fists, shuddering so hard she'd almost think he's having a seizure of some kind. His breath is coming in great gasps, and each one sounds painful. Sara hesitates only a moment, then moves forward quickly, whispering his name as she does, just in case he can hear her.

He doesn't seem to, but neither does he react when she perches on the edge of the bed, hesitating only another moment before she reaches out and grasps a forearm.

She expects him to lash out (and is ready for it), but he doesn't, although his whole body contracts again.

"Leonard! Len! It's Sara." She wraps the fingers of her other hand around his other forearm, runs her thumbs gently down his wrists. "You're on the Waverider. You're dreaming. You're safe." Taking a guess, she says: " _She_ 's safe."

He freezes. Then, numbly: "Sara."

"Yes, Len."

"But I..." Leonard lifts his head, then, and Sara can see reddened, haunted eyes, staring at her like she's an apparition. She starts to reach out to touch his face, then stops, letting him speak.

"I killed Lisa," he tells her numbly. "Snapped her neck, just like our father used to threaten to. And Mick. Froze him, shattered him. And Barry."

"Barry Allen?" She'd known Leonard and the Flash had had a relationship that was...unique for crook and nemesis. Len had been so pleased that she'd already known his identity so he could "complain" about the man.

"And..." His eyes fix on her face, and he shudders again, but this time seems different. Relief, rather than horror. "Sara."

"Len."

"You're OK."

"I'm fine. You're not. C'mere." She tugs him toward her even as she moves toward him, and they somehow wind up leaning into each other...OK, somewhat intertwined... there in the middle of his bed.

It should be uncomfortable, she thinks, but it's not, and she runs a hand up and down his back, trying to soothe, marveling that he's allowing this contact. It should also be... well. She's more or less straddling him, a knee on either side of his hips, and it would be extremely distracting if he wasn't still in such distress.

Leonard's breathing slows, gradually, and eventually he sighs, shoulders rising and falling as he lifts a hand, resting it against her back. (Sara stifles a shudder, and _not_ a bad one.) She can't see his face; his right cheek's tucked against her hair and she's breathing against his collarbone.

"A dream," he says finally, voice still sounding a little numb.

"MmHmm. A nightmare, rather." The muscles of his back are still tense in a way that makes her wince in sympathy, and she brings up her other hand to start kneading them a little. "Has that happened every..."

"...night since I've been out of the brig. And some of the nights before that, in the beginning."

"Why the _hell_ didn't you tell me, tell anyone, how bad it had gotten?" She can't quite keep the irritation out of her voice and he flinches.

"And remind everyone what I used to be?" he shoots back. "No thanks. Going back in the brig might have helped, but... same." Another shrug, muscles moving under her fingertips. "My battle to fight."

"You idiot," she whispers to him. "You should have let me try to help more. Should have..."

At first, it's more proximity than intent that's responsible for what happens next. He looks down at her just as she tilts her head to look up, and…and they're so close, then, lips already brushing, that it seems foolish not to just…move in a tiny bit, put some intent into it…let her tongue brush his bottom lip, tilt her head just a little.

She can feel Len sigh again, but then he's moved microscopically closer too, and their noses bump, and…just like that, it's a real kiss, a tentative and careful one, yes, but a kiss. After few moments of slow exploration, they both lean in a little more and things heat up, get a little more focused. His hands settle at her hips, pulling her closer and drawing an indrawn breath, while her hands slide up to his shoulders and curve there.

After a few more moments, Leonard pulls back, just a little, and stares at her, and there's this _look_ in his eyes. _Wonder_ , she'd almost call it, and she sure as hell doesn't know what she's done to deserve that, but…

Then he yawns. Hugely.

And promptly looks more mortified than she's ever seen another human being look in her life.

Sara, for her part, laughs. It's a start, she thinks a bit giddily, and that's enough for now.

"Have you slept at all since you're been out of the brig?" she asks him.

"No," Gideon says helpfully. Len groans, and rolls his eyes at the ceiling.

"Traitor," he mutters.

"Whoever said I was on _your_ side, Mr. Snart?"

"Thank you, Gideon!" Sara says, raising her voice to drown out Leonard's rejoinder, then gives him one more quick kiss, pushing him back down to the bed as she rolls off to the side.

"Get some sleep," she tells him, watching him pillow his head on an arm as she lies down next to him, not quite touching, but close. "I'll stay."

He raises a meaningful eyebrow at her even as his eyelids are drifting shut, and Sara reflects with amusement that the return of the innuendo, even silent and implied, is a good sign.

"And… in the morning…?"

"In the morning…" She smiles a little to herself as she asks Gideon to lower the lights just a little more. "…we'll see."

* * *

He can't say he doesn't wake, in the night. He does, the nightmares and dreams coming to linger in the dark corners and harry him toward distress or wakefulness.

But each and every time, Sara seems to know. He semi-wakes to find her fingers wrapped around his, anchoring him, her voice murmuring that he's OK, that he's here, not there, and that everyone is safe...or at least safe from him. Sometimes he's barely surfaced from sleep when that gentle reassurance settles in, and he subsides back down into slumber without even a word. Sometimes it takes a few more minutes to calm his breathing and his racing heart. But she's there...and it helps.

It's a choppy sleep...but it's the best night he's had in a long, long while.

* * *

Of course, they're woken—now tangled together, Sara's cheek on Len's upper arm, Len's other arm thrown around her—by Gideon the next morning, as the AI cheerfully lets everyone know that they're readying to make the final jump to their destination.

Only Mick sees them both leave Leonard's room, and stops dead in his tracks, a grin spreading over his face. Sara, smiling, leaves Leonard to deal with it as she darts down the hall to change in her own room. The pair are both on the bridge by the time she arrives, and Mick leers at her (she smirks back) and Leonard rolls his eyes and it's a surprise no one else notices as they all strap in and prepare to jump.

And then they're out into London, 2166, and, once again… it all goes to hell.

* * *

Neither of them are at their best when, so many hours later, they're alone again.

Sara hates to admit it, but it's her turn to be tired. The League had taught her how to go days without sleep, but she's out of practice—and that training applied more to nights spent thoroughly sleepless, on guard, on a hair-trigger, watching a mark and waiting for the right moment. Not a night spent warm and comfortable, stretched out in bed with a man she wants, but can't have now, on alert for distress more than danger.

She thinks, at least, that it'd helped him.

Rips drags the three of them out immediately, after Savage, and that's OK. She can cope. They're "made," as Snart puts it, and she can handle that, too.

She can handle Savage's daughter. She can handle a crash landing. She can handle teaching Kendra to fight with a friggin' bracelet—sort of. She can handle Leviathan, and Ray going giant, and going after Savage yet again. She can even handle Kendra refusing to kill Savage when she could have ended this. Whole. Damned. Thing.

But she can't figure out why Leonard "kill the little rat" Snart has gravitated so immediately and thoroughly to Cassandra fuckin' Savage.

And it's sort of pissing her off.

Pacing the battered ship to work off the sort of restless energy that comes with a particular sort of fatigue, she comes across him in the galley, leaning over the counter, eyes closed, a cup of coffee cradled in those long-fingered hands. He doesn't even open his eyes when she walks in.

She means to ask how he's doing. She means to get her own coffee and lean next to him, taking heart from companionship and warmth.

Instead she opens her mouth and what comes out is:

"Cassandra Savage? Really, Len?"

He opens unfocused eyes, stares at her...and then blinks, gaze clearing. "What?"

"Cassandra Savage? You know, the daughter of the man we're trying to kill?"

He reaches up to rub his eyes, an unrehearsed gesture that seems rather unlike him. "I repeat…what? Sara…are you OK?"

"You know." She leans against the other side of the counter. " 'Cassie.'"

"What about her?" He's frowning at her, now, a classic irritated Snart scowl, and it takes her back to their earlier days on this ship, before Russia and "Chosen" and Kruos. In her tired state, that just serves to irritate her further.

"You're not usually one to encourage...fraternization with the enemy," she shoots back. "What did you think you were doing?"

"What?" he says, yet again, this time with incredulity in his voice. "We needed information. I got it. _You_..." He points at her. "...were even the one who pointed out she'd know the details of his defenses."

"Yeah, well, I didn't think you'd go have a 'heart to heart' with the devil's daughter." She snorts. "Mick suggested sending a finger."

"And _you_ think _that_ is better? Tort..." He shudders then, in the way she associates with memories of his time as Kruos, but keeps going. "Between the whole 'evil dad' thing and the fact that I've been…under the influence of something pretty damned awful myself more recently, I thought maybe I could get through." He glares at her. "And I did. How is that a bad thing?"

"It's not."

All the fatigue-born irritation had gone right out of her when he'd nearly said "torture," the reminder of what the Time Masters put him through, most of which he hasn't even talked about yet. Of course he'd recoil from that. Of course he might identify with this brainwashed child of a crappy father.

She scrubs a hand over her face and sighs, looking back at him. "Forget I said anything, OK?"

Leonard's still looking at her, but his expression is now more puzzled now than anything else. "You all right?" He clears his throat. "I was looking for you. Ah...wondered if the offer still stood. To stay. Because maybe you'd prefer your room? Or…"

He'd been looking for her. While she'd assumed he was still closeted with "Cassie." She's been tired and silly and... damn, she's tired.

She closes her eyes (just for a moment, really) and when she opens them, Leonard now looks...amused?

"Saaaara." There's a smirk hovering around his mouth as he leans forward again, closer to her. "Were you…jealous?"

There's a lightness to her heart that there wasn't a moment ago, but that's not quite it. "No," she says wearily, leaning over the counter a little more herself. "Not really. I just…"

"You _were_ jealous." Smugness suffuses his tone.

"I was not!"

But then he leans just a little farther-and kisses her.

Sara spares one second of concern for their presence in a public space—and then she's kissing him back, both of them leaning over the counter at a remarkably awkward angle that doesn't really manage to deter either one of them at all.

After a few heated moments, Sara breaks off the kiss, eyeing Leonard as she tries to decide whether she's up to doing something as juvenile as sliding over the counter to him or if she should just walk. She starts to say something suggestive…

And yawns.

Leonard laughs, a low sound full of understanding.

"Come on, Canary," he says quietly. "Let's go to bed."


	5. Chapter 5

Sara's not the only one irritated with Kendra. Heck, she's pretty sure most of the team is, although some are hiding it better than others.

But...

Sara takes another sip of Mick's pilfered scotch, then glances up at Len, who's seated in the jump chair she's leaning against and drumming his fingers on his leg. And she thinks about Kruos.

And about waking up this morning after a long and somewhat more satisfying night's sleep, Leonard's arms around her, about getting a few more exploratory kisses in before Gideon called them to another meeting.

She hadn't been able to kill Kruos…Len…before any of this had happened between them. Granted, no Savage had been involved there… but with all the history between Kendra and Carter, how much harder would it be to shut that door forever?

That, of course, just makes her a little more annoyed, at Kendra and at herself. She takes another drink of scotch and nudges Len, passing it up to him. He lets his fingers brush hers as he takes the bottle, almost as demonstrative as a kiss in public as far as he's concerned, and she smiles.

Of course, that's when Ray and Jax make their appearance, babbling about future tech and the giant robot…and everything changes again. There's a light in Rip's eyes Sara's rarely seen: the wonder and the tragedy of hope.

"Plot a course for the Vanishing Point," he declares to Gideon. "Tonight, Vandal Savage faces justice for his crimes!"

Rip doesn't quite pull off his dramatic gesture, though. Because no sooner has he taken a swig of the scotch then Leonard is on his feet, every nerve vibrating, hands in fists.

"No," he says, staring at Hunter. "No."

"Mr. Snart…"

"I go back there, they're going to find me." There's something just this side of panic in his voice, and Sara climbs to her feet, standing at his back, Mick approaching his other side. "They're either going to want to put me down like a rabid dog or they're going to try to break me again. And this time, they won't let a piece...a piece of _me_ remain."

The bridge is silent. Rip stares at Leonard, and Sara thinks there's a hint of sympathy there.

But not enough.

"With all due respect, Mr. Snart," Rip tells him quietly, "this is about more than you. I will not let the Time Masters have you. But we are going to the Vanishing Point. Now. As fast as we are able."

* * *

Leonard leaves the bridge after that, and no one comes after him, not Sara, not Mick.

He's just as happy about that, really—and he's pretty sure they know that, know that he needs the space with his thoughts, which are chasing each other in circles. He walks the hallways a few minutes, catching himself when the ship shudders to a stop.

Something's going sideways already.

 _Alexa_.

He should go back to the bridge, find out what's going on. Make sure...most of the others...are OK. (He gives less than a rat's ass for Rip right now.) But the panic, the gift of the Time Masters to someone who'd otherwise managed to compartmentalize such things as a teenager, bubbles up again...and he walks.

Memory chases him, nipping at his heels. Death and rebirth, a thousand new ways to be broken. Declan, insisting that his newest creation be his best, gazing at him with a critical eye, as if he were a badly fired pot that needed to be recast. Again...and again...

He's not sure how long he walks before he finds his way to the galley. Sara's not there, but Mick is.

"You remember Alexa?" he asks the other man.

* * *

Sara knows enough to give Leonard space when he leaves. She means to give him some time and follow, see if there's anything she can do. Perhaps, at least, distract him.

And then...

The ship's falling apart, and Savage is creepy, and Jax is dying, and then...and then...

Then Len is barreling into Rip's study.

He's seething inside, angry and panicking no matter how hard he tries to hide it, and Sara can't really blame him. And she can't really blame him for any of what he says; it's all true. And yet...

Mick's no happier than Leonard. Rip doesn't really try to argue, just resignedly tells them to take the jump ship, and then looks to Sara.

"What about you, Ms. Lance?"

"Give us a minute," she says, staring at Leonard... then lifts her eyes when Mick and Rip continue to stand there.

"A _minute,_ " she repeats.

Rip's face goes blank at the notion of being thrown out of his own study, but Mick laughs and, slapping a hand on his shoulder, guides him out. Sara barely hears them go. She's still staring at Leonard, who's looking back at her with …

She'd almost say, with his heart in his eyes.

* * *

He wants to ask her to go with them. He wants to beg. He can't quite seem to get the words out. And Sara's looking at him with this watchful expression, one he just cannot read.

Then she takes a step closer, close enough to touch, close enough to...

"You know, I get it," she tells him quietly. "Everything's going wrong. And they tortured you...it's OK to call it that, Leonard." She reaches up and traces the side of his face, gently. But she doesn't look into his eyes. "And I don't want you back in their hands any more than you want to be there, Len, believe it or not. No one would want that for someone they...that they care about."

A deep breath. "But if you don't face them at some point, you'll have this hanging over you forever."

She lifts her eyes then, and meets his, and he realizes there was never really any question here at all.

"And I'm not going," Sara tells him. "I have to see this through. I _have_ to."

* * *

He doesn't bother stopping back at his room; there's nothing there he needs. He can get a new parka. Nothing he's stolen in the various time periods has enough value to sway him.

So why does he feel his steps getting slower and slower the closer he gets to the jump ship?

There's only one thing he wants on this ship.

"Boss? What is it?"

* * *

Things keep happening, one after another. Savage escapes and Gideon goes offline and Sara learns how to fly a time ship. Well...it keeps her busy. It also keeps her from having the clearest idea what's going on in the rest of the ship.

Mick had entered the bridge with Stein, sniping at the older man about how he'd sent Jax off in the jump ship, but Sara's too distracted and busy to question what that means. Did Leonard go too? Is he still here? If so, then where _is_ he?

By the time the dust settles, with no sign of him, she has to presume that he's long gone.

It's OK, really, she thinks numbly, walking the hallway to her room after they land. Better than giving the Time Masters another weapon. Better than putting him through that again, or having to fight him.

She walks in the door to her room without even looking up, kicking off her shoes with a sigh, turning with a stretch to head to her empty bed. It's probably not a good idea to sleep, but she can rest...

Leonard is leaning there, watching her with an expression that says he's not sure if he can expect welcome or violence.

* * *

She's staring at him again. Leonard shifts uncomfortably under that unreadable blue gaze.

"Couldn't do it," he says finally. "Not without you. Well... that's the most important part."

He looks away and shrugs. "And you're right. If I don't face them at some point, I'll be running from them forever. That might be true anyway, but... Savage needs to go down. I want a hand in that. This _is_ going to go sideways, but maybe if we stick togeth..."

Sara hits him with the force of a hurricane, a typhoon, a blizzard, so fast he doesn't even see her coming, her hands wound in the collar of his coat and her mouth hitting his so hard that their teeth clash together. He puts his hands to her shoulders to steady her, then deepens the kiss, spinning her around so that she's pressed up again the bed, boosting her up just a little to even the height difference.

When they finally break the kiss, they do it slowly, so slowly, as if neither of them really wants to put any space between them at all. Leonard's hands are at her waist, and Sara has her arms wrapped around his shoulders, one hand curving around the back of his neck, fingers slowly caressing his neck.

Leonard leans his forehead against hers, and Sara can hear him breathing, the sound ragged in the current silence of the ship.

"Last time I was here," he says after a moment, in a rough voice no louder than a whisper, "at the Vanishing Point, they took…me…out, and put in ice." The noise he makes can just barely be called a laugh. "I thought, used to think, that I was the cold one. All logic. And that was how it should be. Just the job, and the thrill of the game." He sighs. "And then they made me Kruos. And I learned how wrong I'd been." He pulls back just a little farther, just enough to look in her eyes. "I didn't feel…anything at all…for a long, long time. _Nothing_."

There's so much pain in his eyes that Sara swallows, hard, bringing one hand around to trail it down the line of his jaw.

"And now?" she asks gently.

"Now…" His eyes are intent on hers as he lets out a long breath. "Sara, prove to me that I'm human. That I'm not their _thing_ anymore. Give me something to take with me, just in case…"

She doesn't want to hear the words, so she grabs both sides of his collar again, pulling his mouth back to hers.

They don't have much time, and they know it, but they spend what they have proving, to themselves and each other, that they're human, and alive, and here. That their pasts do not define them; that no matter what they've been though, they can still _feel_.

More than hatred, more than anger. Even something as fragile as...love.

Because there was never any question there, either.

There was never really any question at all.

* * *

They're still curled up together in the aftermath, warm and drowsing, when Len's eyes snap open. He stares off into space a moment before his gaze flicks to her.

"Do you hear that?"

"Don't try to distract me," she whispers, running her fingers down his side again.

But Leonard's pulled away in a heartbeat, reaching for the clothing discarded across the floor, throwing Sara's to her. "We...you need to find a place to hide."

"Why?"

"Alexa!"

* * *

Leonard grabs her hand, pulling her down the hallway toward the study, pausing only a moment before locating and popping the hatch. He only has time to steal one hard kiss before she disappears into it, her eyes full of anger and sorrow, but too practical to argue or refuse.

The hatch has only just shut when the Time Masters' minions march in, guns at the ready and pointed at the man with the reputation as one of the greatest successes—and failures—of Time Master Declan.

In another circumstance, he might have fought. As it is, he pulls his fingers away from the cold gun and slowly raises his hands.

The faster they get him out of here, the less likely it is they'll find Sara.

* * *

He's not sure what they do with the others. Him, they take directly to Declan. On the way, he wraps his mind in ice again, his soul in cold. He'll do nothing to show that he has any inconvenient feelings for these miscreants; he'd simply rejoined them because he hates the Time Masters, that's all.

That's all.

Declan shakes his head in disappointment, a betrayed father dealing with a prodigal son. Well, Leonard's dealt with paternal disapproval before.

"Clearly, your conditioning was not as thorough as it should have been," Declan tells him coolly. "Even then, you were the greatest of our hunters, Kruos."

Leonard stares at the Time Master and he thinks of ice.

And of shards all over a bank vault floor.

* * *

"Tell me…what is your name?"

"Fuck off!"

* * *

"What is your name?"

"Leonard...Snart..."

* * *

"What is your name?"

"…"

* * *

"What is your name?

"… Kruos."

* * *

Sara emerges into a deserted time ship. With one else around, she has to rely on Gideon, and the AI and the assassin concoct a plan to get their missing team back.

Druce takes Rip to the Oculus chamber...and shows him the awful truth.

"No matter what you do, it will happen," he tells the renegade Time Master about the future, "and there is nothing you can do to stop it."

* * *

Declan watches as the tall man with the empty eyes is unstrapped from the table in the chamber in the depths of the Time Master compound.

"There is much hunting to be done." The proud father figure smiles. "Let us start with Sara Lance."

* * *

Back in the hangar, Sara Lance is placing explosives on time ships. She has no one to watch her back again...but Gideon is whispering in her ear.

Back in the holding cells, Rip tells Mick and Ray that they've never been in command of their own destinies, after all.

In the armory, Kruos looks long into the eyes of his own helmet…and then puts it on.

* * *

The Vanishing Point may be outside time, but within, events tumble on regardless.

The Waverider takes off, piloted by a very determined-and motivated-rookie. The other time ships try to follow…and a certain song echoes off the sides of the hangar as they all fall to the deck.

 _"Don't mess around, you just got to be strong…"_

While the Time Masters attempt to locate the Waverider, Sara drops secretly back into the complex, leaving Gideon in control of the ship, peppering another area with fire. Sara arrives at the holding cells just in time to take down the guard and knock out Druce. She runs to the cells, freeing Mick, as Stein speaks.

"Ms. Lance, your timing is impeccable."

Ray's intake of breath is her only warning. "Or not!"

Sara spins, Mick boiling out of the cell to stand at her side…and Kruos, in full armor, comes stalking out of the hallway. His gun is raised, and it's pointed right at them.

As Mick bellows, "Snart! Fight those fuckers!" Sara takes a deep breath.

Then, "Len," she whispers, "fight it."

They stand shoulder-to-shoulder, facing down the man in armor. Sara can feel the tension in Mick's arm as they stand, but she doesn't take her eyes off…Leonard. Always, Leonard.

Who seems, in truth, to be made of ice as he stands there, watching them.

But neither does he attack.

A man in Time Master robes appears out of the darkness, staring at them, his face twisted in anger. "Kruos," he says, raising his voice, "fire!"

A second. A lifetime.

And a blue-white beam of pure cold erupts from the gun as Kruos…Leonard… swings it around, hitting Declan. The man only has a second to realize that his greatest "creation" never really was at all… and then he hits the ground.

And shatters.

* * *

There's no time to talk, after. No time for "thank god" or "I was so worried" or even "nice shot." They all pile back onto the ship. Gideon swiftly cedes control back to Sara, who tries to hand it back to Rip, who waves it off. They manage to make use of Kruos' tech to escape.

And then Rip tells them that none of it might make any difference at all.

"The Time Masters have this thing called the Oculus," he relates, "which allows them not only to gaze into the future, but to engineer it."

And, as a team, they decide… that it's time to take their destinies back.

* * *

Sara helps Leonard take the armor off, later, piece by ugly, functional piece, and if there's enough symbolism there to choke on, well, they don't dwell on it.

"You should have run," he tells her, perhaps a tad too harshly, as he weighs the last protective panel in a hand. "I didn't lead them away from you for you to trade your life for nothing."

But she knows him, now, knows how the harshness can cloak all the feelings he usually keeps buried, and doesn't bother arguing. Instead, she shakes her head and reaches up, capturing his head in her hands and pulling him in for a long, long kiss.

"You're not," she tells him, holding his face in her hands, "nothing."

And any more words that might have been said…well, they're saved for later.

* * *

"Hello again, Rip. Right on schedule."

Of course, they walk right into a trap. Druce and the Time Masters are waiting for them.

Fortunately, so is Jax.

"You thought you were the only one who knew a thing or two about time travel?" the kid quips to Stein, and Leonard can't help but smile a little to see him, healthy again and rescuing _them_. But there's no time for welcomes or congratulations. They make for the wellspring, and Raymond sets to figuring out a way to destroy it.

Rip looks at the group-and fixes on the only team member, other than himself, with knowledge of the Time Masters and their technology.

"You lot, guard the entrance," he tells the others. "Mr. Snart…you're with me."

* * *

Leonard gives Sara a long look before she leaves—and her, him one in return—before following the captain and the Boy Scout into the cavernous space where the wellspring awaits.

He meant what he'd told her, once. He doesn't believe in destiny, not really. But something's still going to go sideways here, he can feel it.

Now, if he can just figure out what it is.

* * *

"This is how you die!" Hunter yells at Raymond, anguish and conflict in his voice as the other man tinkers with the innards of the device.

"It's OK. All my life I've wanted to make a difference." Raymond's voice is steady. "Creating a future for you guys without the Time Masters' influence, that counts."

Leonard, picking off another Time Master lackey, growls. "Don't be stupid, Boy Scout!" He turns around just long enough to give the man a blue-eyed glare. "Better to _live_ to make a difference!"

Raymond might have replied, but Leonard doesn't hear him. More of the guards are piling into the room, and for once, he's fighting in concert with the captain, picking off guards here and there, the blue-white blasts of the cold gun mingling with the blue light from Hunter's pistol.

Somehow, they're keeping the horde back. Maybe, he thinks in a tiny corner of his mind, maybe they can pull this off.

He should have known better.

"Uh, oh," says Raymond.

Fuck. Leonard spins around and glares at him.

"There seems to be a failsafe to prevent tampering, which probably includes trying to blow this thing up." The other man takes a deep breath. "I have to maintain contact with the failsafe in order to destroy the Oculus."

That's it. That's it. _Alexa_.

For a moment, Leonard thinks about it. About taking Raymond's place. Revenge against the Time Masters. Blowing their beloved gadget all to hell, himself.

But...Sara.

And isn't the best revenge, as they say, living well? He knows, now, what he has to live for.

"Raymond," he yells, stepping up, as Hunter gapes at them, "the left arm of your suit! Can you lock it in place?!"

"What?"

"You heard me!"

The Boy Scout's eyes are wide but resolute. Still, he does as Leonard asks, flinching just a little as the other man brings up the cold gun.

Leonard can't say he hadn't been tempted to undo all the upgrades made to the gun, just because of the men who'd made them. But he is, if nothing else, pragmatic, and those improvements were bound to come in handy eventually. He turns the cold blast to a setting he's rarely used, one that narrows and strengthens the output to a fine, highly concentrated beam, fires...and brings it down on Raymond's forearm.

The man howls in pain, but the suit … and the flesh and bone underneath... shear off right under the elbow, the arteries within frozen solid for now. Holstering the gun, he catches Raymond as he falls, noting with satisfaction that the hand is still locked in place around the Oculus mechanism, and starts hauling him off the platform, Hunter belatedly coming around to help.

Mick and Sara come running in when they're about halfway out, Mick scooping up Raymond to lug him the rest of the way to the ship. Sara, her eyes full of relief, falls into step with Len as they make their escape.

Just in the nick of time.

* * *

They still have to go after Savage. They still have to rescue Kendra. And, to even Leonard's sorrow, it may be too late to save Hunter's family.

But they're free now, unchained by time or Time Masters, and that's worth some small celebration. Raymond's arm had even been reconstructed by some sort of nifty gadget Hunter had had on this ship all along.

The former Time Master is still pondering their next move, but Len and Sara have spent their little bit of time to proving to each other, vigorously, the truth of Rip's words about the Oculus not affecting emotions or such personal attractions.

Sara's drowsing in his arms—she'd kicked Time Master ass out there, Mick had told him, gleefully—but Leonard's awake, trailing fingertips down the sheen of sweat on her spine, marveling that he's actually comfortable here, like this, and more so, that so is she.

After a moment, she opens her eyes and smiles at him, shaking her head at the preoccupied expression on his face.

"What are you thinking?" she asks, reaching out to touch his face.

"About destiny."

"Oof." But the smile is gone, replaced by a thoughtful look of her own as she props her head on a hand, regarding him. "How so?"

"It's…I wonder how things would have gone if Declan hadn't taken me to be Kruos, had taken Mick the way the Time Masters had wanted and planned," he muses. "They orchestrated everything; Declans's the one who went off the script. Might have changed everything.

"I thought Mick wouldn't have a way to fight them. I think maybe I was wrong. But if it'd been Mick…I don't know." He turns his head to look at her. "Maybe things would have happened differently. And maybe I'd never have had the nerve to…"

Sara lifts her eyebrows at him, eyes dancing. "What?" she asks, playfully.

"Hmmm."

Kruos is gone. And Leonard Snart lives.

"I'm been thinking about what the future might hold," he says finally, lifting his eyes to hers, "for me, and you...

"And me and you."


End file.
